<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>How to Be a Fallen Angel by littlestyousoro</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26940931">How to Be a Fallen Angel</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlestyousoro/pseuds/littlestyousoro'>littlestyousoro</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Love Live! Sunshine!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>ABDL, Age Play, Diapers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Vibrators, Wetting, the nsfw stuff is kept pretty light though</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:01:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,096</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26940931</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlestyousoro/pseuds/littlestyousoro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mari finds out that Yoshiko has discarded her identity as Yohane to better blend into her adult life, she won't have it. Drastic problems require drastic measures, and Mari has just the solution in mind to help Yoshiko reconnect with her inner chuuni.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kurosawa Dia/Ohara Mari (Mentioned), Ohara Mari/Tsushima Yoshiko</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>How to Be a Fallen Angel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i got a laugh out of the idea of something that started off reading halfway like a noir novel and then turned into the exact opposite of that, so for better or worse here it is! hopefully everyone who hates abdl has already blacklisted it, and to the rest of you please enjoy uwu</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Mari asked her out drinking late one night, Yoshiko really should have said no.</p><p>That much <em>should’ve </em>been obvious - this far out from their high school days, drinks with Mari had more or less become the Aqours equivalent of being called to the counselor’s office, a sign that word had reached Mari of some injustice or hardship she just couldn’t ignore.</p><p>Actually, now that Yoshiko thought about it, Mari <em>had </em>wound up leveraging her money to become the counselor at Uranohoshi. Fitting, she thought to herself with a sneer.</p><p>Still, Yoshiko hadn’t said no. It was her own damn fault, and she had to keep reminding herself of the fact as she made her way to Mari’s favorite haunt over in the Kabukicho district of Tokyo, not all that far from her apartment. The bar was some dingy, low-life place they’d all been dragged to at least once by now, full of barely-conscious businessmen and bottles of whiskey that cost more than Yoshiko cared to fathom. Not exactly Yoshiko’s destination of choice, but that was just par for the course in a part of town like this; for all her posturing, all the seediness of a place like the Golden Gai only sent Yoshiko’s stomach churning.</p><p>Crowded rows of neon signs and alleys with all the maneuvering room of a broom closet were hardly home for a shut-in like her. She could’ve been back at her apartment, curled up under a blanket and playing MMOs, but <em>nooooo</em>, Mari to the rescue. Yoshiko grumbled to herself as she finally found her destination, slipping inside with little fanfare - the only acknowledgement she received was a wave from Mari, who was sat in the same stool as ever, like she’d been stapled to the damn thing some eon ago and couldn’t be more thrilled about the prospect.</p><p>“Yohane-sama, dear, so glad you could make it. Come take a seat,” Mari crooned as she patted the stool next to her.</p><p>Yoshiko heaved a sigh. “I told you I stopped with the name, Mari. That was years ago.”</p><p>“Oh hush, I refuse to believe it,” Mari replied with a wink. Her mascara lent the action a playful bite. “Nothing wrong with a bit of make believe, don’t you think?”</p><p>“When you’re twenty-two? A little bit, yeah.”</p><p>“Oh, such a <em>monota vita</em>, my dear! And here I thought you’d be above that.” Yoshiko didn’t try to interrogate the Italian - not that Mari ever gave her the chance. “A drink? It’s on me,” she added with a temptuous finger aimed at the drink menu.</p><p>“I usually need one when I’m talking to you,” Yoshiko replied wryly. “I’ll have a fireball sour, then.”</p><p>Mari just laughed. “A good pick for a fallen angel if I’ve ever heard one. Sounds <em>delizioso</em>.” She snapped for the bartender, who paused his conversation with a patron to turn to her. “Yosuke! You heard the little lady.” He eyed her. She sighed. “Oh, fine. A fireball sour, <em>per favore</em>.”</p><p>A theatrical wave of the hand was enough to get him on it with a sigh that said they’d done this routine a million times and a half, and soon he’d plopped down a flaming red concoction in front of Yoshiko. It went down easy, sweet enough that it served as an escape from the dreariness of the place and hot enough that it kicked her back to life. A perfect concoction, one worthy of…</p><p>Well, someone Yoshiko had been once upon a time.</p><p>“So,” Mari began when Yoshiko set her glass down with a sharp <em>clink</em>. “I heard you haven’t been doing so hot as of late.”</p><p>Yoshiko side-eyed her. “And where did you hear that?”</p><p>“I have my ways,” Mari replied with a cheshire-like smile.</p><p>“Zuramaru?”</p><p>“Yep!” Mari exclaimed as she picked up her half-empty champagne flute and swirled it a bit, inhaling the aroma before taking a rarefied sip. Yoshiko was hardly amused by the candor, but Mari seemed to either not notice or not care. “Got me a tinge worried, especially when I’d heard you’d dropped your whole schtick. A Yoshiko without her Yohane is woefully incomplete, wouldn’t you say?”</p><p>“It’s not-” Yoshiko stopped herself in her tracks and sighed. “It wasn’t a schtick. It was just time to let it go. I’m an adult now, I don’t need to live with my head in the clouds. And I <em>certainly </em>don’t need you to try and nose your way into my business.”</p><p>“<em>Au contraire, </em>my dear,” Mari volleyed back. “I grew up far too fast, it’s only my sworn duty to not let others follow my path.”</p><p>Yoshiko looked at the diamond-studded Omega watch on Mari’s wrist skeptically.</p><p>“I don’t know, I think I’d be pretty fine with that,” she replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. Not that she’d ever succeeded in actually getting underneath Mari’s skin or anything of the sort.</p><p>“Well, I won’t have it! You’re still my precious little Yohane-chan, and I’m here to remind you of it.”</p><p>“You sound like you’re auditioning to be my mom,” Yoshiko remarked with an unamused look. Mari only laughed, her champagne undoubtedly contributing to the faint slur in her voice.</p><p>“Who says I can’t be?” she replied.</p><p>“You don’t really fit the part,” Yoshiko shot back, finally getting into the swing of Mari’s particular brand of banter. “Too young, not boring enough. Put a pantsuit on and tell me to be more mature, then we’ll talk.”</p><p>“Oh, but that just makes it all the easier to differentiate us, don’t you think? She can be mom, I can be mommy. I’ll even put on a pantsuit if that’s what floats your boat,” Mari added glibly.</p><p>Yoshiko balked and sputtered, opening her mouth to reply before quickly closing it. She wasn’t going to win this one.</p><p>“Another fireball sour please,” she said to the bartender. Mari grinned.</p><p>The next half hour was spent in a merciful lull, idle chatter and stories about their lives being the fodder for their conversation rather than any kind of bizarre flirting. Yoshiko was thankful for the space to relax and unwind - given how stressed college had been leaving her as of late, time with Mari suddenly felt pleasant and nostalgic, like a blissful reprieve from adulthood.</p><p>Of course, the drinks were helping. After the third one Yoshiko was pretty sure that the way she was swaying back and forth wasn’t gravity messing with her, though the way her speech was slurred was more of a giveaway than anything else.</p><p>“How could I have missed the launch party for the new expansion to be at an <em>academic conference</em>, Mari? I hated every minute of it!”</p><p>Yoshiko had gotten into the stresses of her undergraduate degree, and a trickle of woe-is-me stories had swiftly become a deluge as she recounted all the struggles of trying to be responsible. Her advisor trusted her enough to involve her in departmental events and research, but the pride that had come with that attention had been swiftly outweighed by exhaustion as she tried to keep up the image she’d crafted for herself.</p><p>“You could’ve just gone,” Mari replied wryly. She was hardly sober, but in comparison to Yoshiko she might as well have been. “Nobody’s making you do anything you don’t want to do.”</p><p>“Yeah, but…” Yoshiko sighed and laid her head down on the cool wood of the bar. It felt refreshing against her forehead, and she focused on the sensation for a moment to ground herself. “I need to prove I’m b- better than I used to be, Mari,” she said with a hiccup hitching her breath mid-sentence. “I need to prove I’m more than some chuuni loser pretending to be something I’m not.”</p><p>Mari tutted in reply, reaching a hand to bridge the distance between them as she petted Yoshiko softly. “You’ve never been anything of the sort, dear. You’re who you are, and that’s an incredible thing. You don’t need to hide it.”</p><p>Yoshiko sniffled. Oh god, the waterworks were starting. This was why she rarely drank; alcohol just turned into a crybaby who couldn’t keep it together for the life of her. Unfortunately, as always Mari was far too deft at getting her to indulge.</p><p>“I do, Mari! That’s all anyone wants from me. They just… want me to be mature, to not be Yohane. I hate it so much,” she whispered under her breath as a tear streaked down her cheek. She cradled her head on the bar, attempting to hide the tears streaking her cheeks. Mari’s hand remained unfaltering, however, petting Yoshiko’s hair all the while.</p><p>“Well, what if I told you that I <em>wanted</em> you to be Yohane?”</p><p>The response sent Yoshiko’s spiral to a sudden, abrupt halt. If she were any less drunk, she’d have immediately countered with something elegant like a <em>“Fuck you, Mari!” </em>or an <em>“Eat shit, Mari!”</em></p><p>But right now, that kind of acceptance just sounded… nice. It sounded loving, and she wanted that so badly. So when Mari bade her to rise from the counter and pulled her into a gentle embrace, she didn’t try to fight it. She allowed the tears to fall as Mari pressed Yoshiko to her bosom, gentle reassurances flowing from her lips like sweet nectar.</p><p>The rest was a blur; there was little to remember when Yoshiko’s brain had been rendered to a pulp by the succession of drinks, leaving her pliable and open to suggestion in a way she so rarely was. Gone was the stubborn Yoshiko Tsushima, in her place a tired little girl who wanted nothing more than for Mari to tell her what to do. The only recollection she carried into the next morning was the sight of Mari leading her up some staircase she’d never seen before - after that, the rest was black.</p><p>︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵</p><p>The next morning greeted Yoshiko with all the hospitality of a firing squad, a headache hammering down on her skull like holy hell itself. As she rose from the embrace of the bedsheets she nursed her head, rubbing gingerly at the skin as if the action might prove some form of panacea for the steady throb. It of course did little, but she found herself distracted from the pain regardless as she attempted to trace the events of the previous night. She went to see Mari, they talked, yadda yadda, then…</p><p>Wait, where <em>was </em>she?</p><p>The question sent her head spinning as she examined the room, taking note of its unfamiliar appearance and an aesthetic that she could only describe as... kiddish? It was decorated with various fanciful, juvenile pieces of furniture, all sorts of toys scattered about the extremely plush rug. It was unnerving, and a shiver went down Yoshiko’s spine as she peered around.</p><p>It almost reminded her of…</p><p>No, she wasn’t going to go there. She plied the sheets off her body, taking note of their silk trim as she sat up. She was still in her dress from yesterday. Good, good. That meant nothing wild happened - though Yoshiko still couldn’t fathom where she’d found herself. Half afraid she’d drunkenly broken into somebody’s home without realizing, Yoshiko cracked the door open and peered out into the hallway, only exiting when she was sure the coast was clear. High up on her tiptoes, she explored the home with enough furtiveness to qualify as an extra in a spy film. An office, a second bedroom, a drawing room - this was a nice place, Yoshiko noted to herself as she moved next to the living room. It was empty, leaving Yoshiko deeply suspicious. Where the hell was she?</p><p>“YOSHIKO! Come here, <em>mi amore</em>!”</p><p>Yoshiko found herself shrieking as Mari’s arms wrapped around her from behind; she would’ve jumped straight up in the air if not for the way she’d been restrained.</p><p>“What the fuck, Mari?! Where did you come from?”</p><p>Yoshiko broke from Mari’s embrace and spun around, met with the sight of Mari’s head cocked to one side.</p><p>“What do you mean? I just got out of the bathroom.”</p><p>Oh. Apparently Yoshiko hadn’t scouted the place that well after all.</p><p>“Okay, well,” Yoshiko sputtered aimlessly, “where are we?”</p><p>The corners of Mari’s lips curled upward into a catlike smile.</p><p>“Oh, this is my secret little hideaway. Come on, I’ll show you!”</p><p>Before Yoshiko could object, Mari had taken hold of her hand and led her along, showing her every square inch of what she quickly realized was an apartment in the heart of Tokyo. After peaking outside a window, she blanched.</p><p>“Is that…?”</p><p>“Kabukicho!” Mari clapped her hands together in satisfaction. “Nice little location, is it not? We’re right above the bar.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, <em>what</em>? Do you own this place? In the <em>Golden Gai</em>?”</p><p>“On, it's hardly a big deal. My parents aren't going to notice a mil missing, don't you agree?”</p><p>Yoshiko decidedly <em>didn't</em>, but she wasn't about to interrogate the claims of someone who'd probably held more money in her hand than Yoshiko could fathom making in her lifetime.</p><p>“So, the bedroom.”</p><p>“What about it?” Mari leered at Yoshiko with an almost sadistic amount of glee.</p><p>“I, I mean…” Yoshiko felt her mouth go dry. “It’s a <em>kid’s </em>room, Mari! You don’t have a kid!”</p><p>“Oh, my darling, you need some more <em>immaginazione</em>,” Mari replied with a distinctly Italian hand flourish. “Does one need a child to have a child’s room?”</p><p>“Uh… yeah?”</p><p>“<em>Buu buu,</em>” Mari exclaimed in her best Dia impersonation with a sly wink. “Wrong answer.”</p><p>Before Yoshiko could object further she was already being led onward to the kitchen. No sooner had they gotten there than Mari had powered up some chrome contraption that sputtered and steamed, letting loose a godawful aroma.</p><p>“What is that?”</p><p>“An espresso machine,” Mari clarified in a sage-like tone as she pulled some coffee beans out of the cabinet and began grinding them. “Makes a hell of a cup, want some?”</p><p>Yoshiko blanched. “I, uh… no thanks.”</p><p>Mari looked at Yoshiko curiously before her eyes lit up. “Oh, I completely forgot. You don’t like coffee, don’t you?”</p><p>“Not exactly,” Yoshiko begrudgingly admitted in reply.</p><p>“Well, that’s perfectly okay. I have plenty of other things for you to drink.” Gliding to the fridge, Mari opened the door and began rooting around inside until she triumphantly pulled out a carton of milk, pouring Yoshiko a glass and setting it down on the dining table. Yoshiko stared at it blankly.</p><p>“I was kind of hoping for something a bit less… this.”</p><p>“Oh, don’t pout,” Mari replied in a voice that read unusually patronizing. “Don’t you want to grow up big and strong?”</p><p>“I’m twenty-two, Mari.”</p><p>“<em>Physically</em>, yes.”</p><p>Yoshiko deadpanned in reply, but that didn’t stop her from sipping on the milk anyways. After a few minutes of silence, Mari spoke up once again.</p><p>“I’ll be honest, dear. I didn’t just bring you up here because you were drunk. Not that I would’ve let you go home that smashed, of course, but…”</p><p>“But?” Yoshiko’s eyes looked upward at Mari, skeptically.</p><p>“Sorry, actually, I can’t take you seriously when you’re wearing… that.” She pointed towards her upper lip and stifled a juvenile laugh. Yoshiko instantly moved the back of her hand to wipe off the milk moustache that had formed.</p><p>“Happy?”</p><p>Mari shrugged, but the gleeful look on her face said she very much was.</p><p>“Anyways, I have a proposition for you. If you want to hear it.”</p><p>Yoshiko raised her eyebrows. “Do tell.”</p><p>“You’re still adventurous, I see. Good. That’s why you’re my favorite,” Mari added with a wink before grabbing her coffee and sitting down with it on the other side of the table. It remained entirely black, and Yoshiko cringed as she watched Mari take a slow sip. Stupid Italians and their stupid shitty water. “You told me yesterday that you were tired of all that pesky responsibility you’ve been saddled with. Isn’t that right?”</p><p>“Yeah, that about sums it up,” Yoshiko replied with a sigh for effect.</p><p>“Well, I heard from a little birdie that you have some… particular interests.” Mari raised her eyebrows at Yoshiko, who stared back with a blank expression.</p><p>“And what might those be?”</p><p>Was it getting hot in here? It must’ve been. Mari really needed to keep a better eye on the thermostat.</p><p>“Well, I heard that you like to be a baby,” Mari replied in a slow, languid drawl that send shivers dripping down Yoshiko’s spine. “Now, I thought it was just a metaphor, you know? So imagine my surprise when I hear that it’s entirely serious. Diapers, pacifiers, the whole nine yards. <em>È piuttosto interessante</em>, no?”</p><p>Yoshiko felt her heart race faster and faster with each successive word, pounding away in her chest like a machine gun. How did Mari…</p><p>“R- Ruby?”</p><p>Mari smiled coyly. “Yep. She just wants what’s best for you, you know? So do I, for that matter.”</p><p>Yoshiko swallowed the thick lump forming in the back of her throat, chasing it down with the last of her pride now that she knew Mari was aware of her deepest secret.</p><p>“I stopped doing that. I’m an adult, Mari. Besides, you don’t even know all the particulars,” she added hesitantly. She wasn’t even sure what possessed her to imply that she was even considering what Mari was steering her toward, but she did all the same.</p><p>“Oh, don’t I? Where do you think you woke up, dear?”</p><p>Yoshiko’s eyes went wide as she thought to that bedroom. The childish aesthetic, the toys, the pastel colors…</p><p>“Who…?”</p><p>“You’d be surprised how bratty Dia gets when she needs a diaper change,” Mari replied with a wink. “Though maybe it’d be for the best for now if she didn’t hear that I told you that, <em>sì</em>?”</p><p>A blanket of silence fell over them as Yoshiko considered the mental image that Mari had conjured. The thought of Dia, <em>Dia Kurosawa</em>, crying and wetting her diaper sent Yoshiko’s head spinning. She’d come to view ageplay as an escape early in her college years, and Ruby had been the one to indulge her in it as her caregiver - but with time came a browbeating from her college education as well as Ruby’s, and the activity had faded into the background until it ceased altogether. There was still a certain surreality to the act of calling Ruby anything other than <em>mommy</em>, one that left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth along with a distinct sense of shame for having ever indulged that side of herself.</p><p>But knowing Dia was in the same boat changed things, if only ever-so-slightly.</p><p>“What do you think, dear?” Mari’s question coaxed Yoshiko gently out of her thoughts, bringing her back to reality in the form of Mari’s kitchen.</p><p>“I…” Yoshiko choked on the words she needed to form. “I can’t do it again. It’s wrong.”</p><p>“Now when has that ever stopped you from doing something?” Mari tutted disapprovingly. “Alright, how about this: let’s play a game, okay dear?”</p><p>Yoshiko raised an eyebrow. “A game?”</p><p>“<em>Un gioco!</em>” Mari clapped her hands together to punctuate the declaration. “Now, you’re a big girl. I can accept that. Yoshiko Tsushima is an adult, and that’s okay! We all have to be grown-ups now and then so we can get through life, <em>sì</em>?”</p><p>“Where are you going with this?” Yoshiko asked skeptically.</p><p>“Don’t worry, <em>mi amore</em>, I’m getting there. Here’s the thing: maybe Yoshiko is a big girl, but what about Yohane?”</p><p>“I <em>told </em>you, Mari, I-”</p><p>“And I’m telling <em>you</em>,” Mari interrupted, “that she never really left. Yohane’s as much a part of you as Yoshiko is, my dear. Just because you can’t show her to anybody doesn’t mean she isn’t who you are. <em>Au contraire!</em> That just makes her your true self, don’t you think?”</p><p>“I guess?”</p><p>“I <em>know</em>,” Mari replied as she snaked a hand across the table, wrapping it around Yoshiko’s own. “Yoshiko wants to be a big girl, but I think <em>Yohane</em> wants to be a baby, don’t you agree? Wouldn’t it be nice to let Mommy take care of her precious little fallen angel?”</p><p><em>Mommy</em>… Yoshiko felt a heat in her core as soon as Mari said that one single word, like it was the key to the lockbox that had withheld her desires all this time. She wanted to fight, to leave and never come back. She knew how wrong this was, and yet she’d never wanted anything more in her entire life. Every bone in her body was screaming at her to just say <em>yes, </em>to let herself regress and fall into her mommy’s arms, and no matter how much she tried to steer her thoughts away from their inevitable conclusion, they arrived at it all the same.</p><p>“I’d… I’d like that. <em>Yohane </em>would like that.”</p><p>As soon as the words left her parted lips, a smile crossed Mari’s face with all the radiance of a million stars twinkling in the night sky. The very sight sent a pitch scarlet racing across Yoshiko’s cheeks as she was beckoned from the kitchen table and back toward the bedroom she had woken up in. Mari kept hold of her hand the whole way, leading her along in silence with a newfound maternal grace to her every movement.</p><p>Only when they reached the bedroom did the weight of Yoshiko’s reply truly register in her mind, the bright pastels of the room hitting her like a freight train. This was a <em>kid’s </em>bedroom, and even the act of being aware of its purpose began a process of regression that nipped at the corners of her mind, threatening to tear down all the walls she’d so carefully built up.</p><p>“I put a lot of effort into this room,” Mari remarked casually as she opened the closet and began ruffling through its confines. From the doorframe where she still stood, Yoshiko could only guess what the space contained as Mari continued to talk. “Dia wanted it to look a bit more… mature, but I figured she wouldn’t mind either way.” Mari snickered. “Plus, I wanted to make it comfortable for other littles too. You never know what’ll happen, <em>no</em>?”</p><p>“... Yeah,” Yoshiko replied lamely for lack of anything better to say. The very thought of Dia as a little was still hard to wrap her thoughts around, but thankfully she was distracted from having to conjure the image any longer when Mari emerged from the closet with a small pile of goods stacked on her arms.</p><p>“I hope you don’t mind, but I asked Ruby what sizes you wear. I couldn’t have any complications on my first day with my baby girl,” she crooned in a dulcet tone.</p><p>“You really planned all this out?” Yoshiko asked in amazement. The thought almost concerned her, but instead of feeling violated like she knew she was supposed to, she only found herself blushing at the thoughtfulness of Mari’s actions. Mari’s kindness was sown into every stitch of the fabrics she began pulling out one by one - onesies, bibs, all kind of things. Yoshiko’s mouth was left ever-more agape as she saw the way each was decorated with demonic patterns.</p><p>Mari beckoned her closer to take the onesie into her hands, and she obediently did so, taken aback by how soft the purple fabric felt to her touch. Little demons and bats were scattered about it, haloed by occult imagery that conjured to mind so many of Yoshiko’s old Twitch streams.</p><p>“This is so pretty,” Yoshiko muttered under her breath. Mari hummed in approval.</p><p>“I’m glad you feel that way! That’s not all, though, <em>mi amore</em>,” she cooed. A quick flourish of the hand produced the lynchpin of the whole outfit: a thick, padded diaper covered in demonic imagery much like the onesie. The sight alone left Yoshiko’s head feeling hazy as Mari led her in front of the bed. “Can I take off your clothes, sweetie?”</p><p>Yoshiko nodded silently, stunned by the rapid progression of the morning. Mari was happy picking up the slack, however, and made a point to slowly unbutton Yoshiko’s blouse, taking her sweet time in exposing the porcelain skin underneath. With the last button undone it slid off of Yoshiko’s body easily, and her skirt followed close behind. Yoshiko felt exposed and vulnerable in nothing more than her bra and panties, but the maternal air that Mari carried with her tamped down the worst of Yoshiko’s embarrassment, even as Mari eyed the unscrupulous bulge tenting her panties. What would normally be a source of anxiety just became another part of her to be accepted and loved, the early stages of a little space that Yoshiko was slowly feeling herself pulled into.</p><p>“Hmm,” Mari hummed thoughtfully with a finger to her chin and an eyebrow cocked. “Something about this sight doesn’t look right.”</p><p>It was evidence of the effect Mari was already having on Yoshiko that she felt tears prick at her eyes at the very thought that she’d done something wrong, but she did her best to fight them back. She wasn’t <em>that </em>far gone, she hoped to herself.</p><p>“Oh!” Mari shouted theatrically after a split second, perhaps recognizing Yoshiko’s anxiety. “I know what’s wrong. Babies don’t wear lingerie! That would be quite <em>impropria</em>, no?”</p><p>“Oh, uh,” Yoshiko stammered aimlessly as she stared down at the frilly bra and panties she’d hastily picked out the night before in an attempt to feel mature. “They don’t,” she finally spoke lamely.</p><p>“Then why don’t we get them off?” Mari leveled a smug look at Yoshiko as she reached around Yoshiko’s back to begin undoing her bra. In one deft motion it fell to the floor, and soon enough her hands began snaking lower down Yoshiko’s body. Yoshiko felt like her skin had been set alight everywhere that Mari’s hands danced, the action one part erotic and another soothing.</p><p>A ghost of her inner thigh earned a bitten-back moan Yoshiko and a giggle from Mari, who seemed to be enjoying the show and then some. As her thumbs hooked into each side of Yoshiko’s panties, she let her hands linger as she leaned into Yoshiko’s ear, her voice dripping with a maternal kind of confidence that had Yoshiko dangling on a string.</p><p>“Do you want mommy to take care of you, dear?”</p><p>“I do,” Yoshiko whispered in reply, her voice quavering.</p><p>“Not quite,” Mari tutted disapprovingly. “Why don’t you try saying that one more time?”</p><p>Yoshiko swallowed the last of her pride, of her <em>adulthood</em>. “Y- yes, Mommy…”</p><p>“Good girl.” Mari’s lips curled into a self-satisfied smile as she tugged down on Yoshiko’s panties, allowing her erection to spring free from its confines. It was small enough to look feminine on Yoshiko’s body, softened by years of hormone therapy and careful dieting regimens, yet not so small that it wasn’t immediately noticeable. Yoshiko found herself blushing at how hard she’d gotten, but perhaps on purpose, Mari gave no indication of even noticing her erection. Instead she simply ushered Yoshiko onto the bed, motioning for her to roll onto her back so that Mari could unfold one of the disposable diapers and place it underneath her.</p><p>“Now, dear, tell me. What do babies do with diapers?” Mari asked idly as she set about wrapping the crinkly material around Yoshiko’s waist.</p><p>“Um… use the bathroom in them?”</p><p>“Oh sweetie,” Mari bemoaned. “That’s not how babies talk!”</p><p>“It’s hard to get into little space,” Yoshiko replied with a slight pout to her words. “I haven’t done this in a long time.”</p><p>Mari hummed in understanding as she completed her work, folding the diaper over Yoshiko’s erection and sealing it with the tapes on the side. Her hands ran along the fabric, letting the sound of her hand brushing against the material intermingle with the gentle crinkle in the stale air of the bedroom.</p><p>“Remember that game you played with Mommy before?” Mari finally replied after a few moments of contemplative silence. When Yoshiko nodded hesitantly, she continued. “We’re gonna keep playing it. Let’s say that you have two sides. I want you to imagine that Yoshiko…” Mari gestured to one half of Yoshiko’s body, poking her palm gently with a finger. “... is the adult. She’s cool and responsible and reliable, the kind of person everyone puts their trust into. But on this side…” Mari poked Yoshiko’s other palm. “... is Yohane. Now, fallen angels don’t like to do what they’re told, isn’t that right?”</p><p>Yoshiko nodded, slowly catching onto Mari’s path of thought.</p><p>“That’s right, they don’t - except when their mommies tell them what to do, because fallen angels <em>love</em> to be pampered and praised. They’re still heavenly beings, after all! So you can let Yoshiko handle all that dumb, silly adult stuff, because as soon as you put on a diaper, you become Yohane: a cute little fallen angel who cries for Mommy when she goes potty in her diapey. Isn’t that right, dear?”</p><p>When Yoshiko replied she spoke slowly, tasting each syllable on her tongue as though she couldn’t quite believe they were real. Only twelve or so hours prior they’d been knee deep in Kabukicho getting wasted at a dead-end bar, and even though they were only a floor above it felt as though Yoshiko were wrapped up in an entirely different world. Mari was <em>her mommy</em>, and even in a diaper that knowledge was hard to comprehend. Still, Mari had put so much effort into this, so Yoshiko had to do her best to try and get into her little space - and into the headspace of Yohane.</p><p>“Okay Mommy,” she said. “But what about Dia-”</p><p>“Dia-<em>nee</em>, sweetie,” Mari corrected her.</p><p>Yoshiko’s mouth hung open for a brief moment. “Wh- what about Dia-nee?”</p><p>“We’ve talked,” Mari replied reassuringly. “I didn’t out you, but I got her approval. If it’s okay with you, I’ll tell her down the road. Who knows, maybe if things go well you two can have a playdate!”</p><p>A playdate? With <em>Dia Kurosawa</em>? Yoshiko recoiled at the very thought, but thought better of showing that to Mari, opting instead for something more diplomatic - at least, in the eyes of a child.</p><p>“I wanna play with Mommy by myself first,” she pouted. Mari only laughed, the sound carrying a mirth that reached all the way to Yoshiko’s core and warmed her through.</p><p>“Oh, don’t you worry dear. You don’t have anything to do, today?” A nod from Yoshiko served as confirmation. “Then you can spend it getting taken care of by Mommy. Doesn’t that sound lovely, sweetheart?”</p><p>With every word spoken Yoshiko was lulled deeper into her little space, a skill that had become rusty with the passage of time yet no less innate to her psyche. In reply she decided to reach for the fabric that Mari was still holding in her hand, grasping at it weakly.</p><p>“Aww, does baby Yohane want to get dressed?”</p><p>“Onesie!” she shouted childishly, a performatively petulant look on her face as she leaned forward. The two of them turned it into a game, Mari holding it just out of her reach until the two of them collapsed into a mess of giggles and innocent joy.</p><p>Yoshiko took advantage of the lull to finally get leverage on the onesie, prompting a wry <em>“Okay, okay!” </em>from Mari as she got Yoshiko situated to slide the garment over her body. The fabric’s soft texture felt soothing against Yoshiko’s bare skin as it was pulled down and then over her diaper, creating a noticeable bulge that left little to the imagination even after Mari had buttoned it up between Yoshiko’s legs.</p><p>“Now for the <em>pièce de résistance</em>…” Mari strolled over to the nightstand casually as could be, procuring a small wooden box and rushing back. “Does baby want her binkie?”</p><p>She tore it open, revealing a bright purple pacifier with Yoshiko’s old Aqours stamp emblazoned on the front in all its impish glory. Yoshiko’s mouth fell agape as she stared at it, so shocked by the thought put into it that she temporarily snapped back to her usual self.</p><p>“Mari… you really didn’t have to do this.”</p><p>“Well, I <em>wanted </em>to, so there! Anything in the world for Mommy’s precious little fallen angel, isn’t that right?”</p><p>Yoshiko nodded dumbly, slowly dropping back into little space as Mari placed the pacifier in her mouth. She sucked hesitantly at the plastic nipple for a brief moment until it created a seal, causing her to relax as she remembered just how soothing the sensation was. Since her previous caregiver relationship she’d taken to sucking on her thumb at night when she allowed herself some reprieve, but that couldn’t compare in the slightest to what she was feeling right now.</p><p>“You look so precious,” Mari warmly whispered as she looked on at Yoshiko’s babied form. “I’ve got a full day of fun planned for us, do you think you can be a big girl and walk for Mommy?”</p><p>Yoshiko hesitantly stood up, testing her own legs as she toddled about around the bedroom floor. The diaper certainly made walking normally a challenge, but with Mari’s encouragement she felt comfortable enough with her current state of regression that she could make her way out into the rest of the apartment on her own two feet.</p><p>The rest of the day went swiftly, Mari flitting about the apartment as she prepared this and that. It didn’t take long for breakfast to be set out on two different plates - one porcelain and one a babyish plastic - and Yoshiko immediately dug in. Perhaps it was in anticipation of how much she’d be able to regress on her first attempt that Mari supplied her with a bib and ineffectual kid’s utensils, meaning that despite her relatively intact table manners she still found herself having trouble maneuvering her food safely into her mouth. Mari only laughed as she wiped stray bits of egg from Yoshiko’s bib, prompting a scarlet embarrassment to blossom on Yoshiko’s cheeks.</p><p>After breakfast came the quiet lull of afternoon, the apartment’s insulated walls providing a perfect cocoon from the hectic Tokyo streets outside. After having her pacifier returned to her mouth, Yoshiko was given time to wander the apartment and explore, leading to the most important revelation of all - a panoply of game consoles hidden under the TV. As soon as she caught eye of the Switch, she was already toddling over to Mari, a bright sheen in her eyes as she tugged on her mommy’s sleeve. Mari pulled out the pacifier from Yoshiko’s mouth, a curious glint in her eye.</p><p>“I wanna play with Mommy!”</p><p>“What did you have in mind, dear?” Mari asked with a sly look, finishing up the last of the dishes from earlier and slotting it carefully in the dishwasher.</p><p>“Mario Kart!”</p><p>“Oh, I’d forgotten that you liked racing games,” Mari replied humoredly. “And here I thought you were into Forza.”</p><p>Yoshiko stuck her tongue out. “That’s boooring. Mario Kart!”</p><p>An understanding smile crept onto Mari’s face. “Well, I certainly can’t say no to a fallen angel’s wishes. Can my baby girl start it up?~”</p><p>Without even taking the time to reply, Yoshiko began excitedly making her way back to the living room, doing her best to walk even with the thick padding between her legs that her diaper provided. By the time Mari had joined her on the couch, Yoshiko was already raring to go and enjoying herself in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to in ages. Racing games had always been one of her specialties, and Mari quickly realized that there was no need for her to let her little girl win. Game after game went by in a rash of intense competition, Mari only occasionally able to steal wins out from under Yoshiko.</p><p>However, with time the scales began to weigh out more evenly. Yoshiko did her best to concentrate on drifting every turn precisely, but she felt an increasing pressure building up in her bladder that was becoming harder and harder to ignore. Despite her embarrassment at the predicament, she was intent enough on winning to try making use of her diaper discreetly - but no matter how hard she tried, she was unable to wet herself. The pressure began getting to her more and more, and in her current little space the frustration built up until she suddenly found tears pricking at her eyes. Mari turned to her cheerfully, only for her face to fall as soon as she saw Yoshiko crying.</p><p>“What’s wrong, <em>mia piccola</em>?” Mari’s brows furled as she reached her arms out for Yoshiko, dropping the controller in favor of embracing her. Yoshiko’s head rested on Mari’s breast as she sniffled.</p><p>“I’m- I’m sorry Mommy, I didn’t mean to cry, it just happened…”</p><p>“<em>Shhhh</em>,” Mari slowly replied, rocking Yoshiko back and forth in her arms as the tears streamed down Yoshiko’s cheeks and onto Mari’s blouse. “It’s all okay, dear. You’re just in little space, you don’t need to apologize. Babies cry, isn’t that right?”</p><p>“I just… need to go potty,” Yoshiko slowly replied, the words forming with unusual difficulty - in the back of her mind she realized she might be regressing further, but was able to give it little thought while she was still crying. “Need to make pee-pee…”</p><p>“Then why don’t you use your diaper, sweetie? Just let it out for Mommy.”</p><p>“Can’t,” Yoshiko whimpered softly. “Don’t know how to wet…”</p><p>“Oh honey,” Mari bemoaned softly as she held Yoshiko tight. A stray hand began to stroke Yoshiko’s hair, massaging her scalp with finely-manicured nails. “It’s okay, Mommy will make it all okay. Wanna watch some cartoons? When you think you’re ready to try wetting, just let Mommy know.” Yoshiko nodded slowly. “Good girl, don’t you worry.”</p><p>Before Yoshiko even had time to think, Mari had stuck her pacifier back into her mouth and grabbed a remote, changing the input and pulling up a rather impressive library of kid’s shows that she had on hand. Yoshiko wasn’t even entirely sure what they wound up watching, more focused just on the cute characters than their dialogue. The soft, pastel hues of the cartoon were soothing, luring Yoshiko into a peaceful state as the last of her tears dried up and her body untensed. She sank further into Mari’s embrace, humming into her pacifier as she felt her mommy begin to pet her hair again. The next hour crept by without notice, Yoshiko falling in and out of consciousness without a care in the world, Mari’s breasts acting as her pillow. Even her bladder eventually slipped her mind, and before she could realize what was happening she felt herself slowly emptying into her diaper. She smiled softly and nuzzled against Mari, who’d seemingly picked up on the faint, muffled hiss coming from Yoshiko’s diaper.</p><p>“Good girl,” she cooed softly. “My little Yohane is doing such a good job going potty. Do you need Mommy to change you, baby?” Yoshiko nodded, unable to form words while she sucked away at her pacifier. “Do you think you’re a big enough girl to walk?”</p><p><em>That </em>left Yoshiko pondering, unsure entirely of how far she’d regressed. She hesitantly attempted to stand, but knew instantly that it felt wrong. Her diaper sagged down with the weight of her accident, leaving it feeling bulky and unwieldy between her legs. She dropped down onto the ground, looking up at Mari hesitantly as she crawled forward a bit to demonstrate her answer to the question. In response she earned a mirthy giggle from Mari, who knelt down to ruffle her hair.</p><p>“That’s quite alright, my dear. Let’s go get little baby Yohane changed, alright?”</p><p>Yoshiko felt flushed as she crawled down the hallway, her full diaper an acute presence as it squished and sagged under her. She’d never wet herself with Ruby, and now that she finally knew what it was like her embarrassment was outweighed by a sense of… satisfaction, maybe? Or perhaps it was just a sense of completeness, of feeling perfectly in her place as she crawled into the kid’s bedroom and allowed Mari to lift her up onto the changing platform tucked away in the corner. Mari deftly undid the buttons of the onesie and tapes of the diaper and allowed it all to unfurl from around Yoshiko’s waist, releasing the faintest scent marking Yoshiko’s empty bladder.</p><p>Mari set about peeling the diaper out from underneath Yoshiko and wrapping it up in plastic bags, but all the while Yoshiko found herself distracted by her erection, which was even harder than it had been before - despite her regression in the meantime. It was something about the sight of her full diaper, of being naked in front of her mommy, that sent blood rushing to her core. Mari hummed quietly as she worked, but even in Yoshiko’s largely innocent state, she could notice the corners of her mommy’s eyes finding their way back toward her.</p><p>Finally, after what felt like an eternity spent laying on the changing station and sucking on her pacifier, Mari returned to Yoshiko’s side and tutted.</p><p>“Good little baby girls don’t get erections, my dear,” she teased. “Is my little Yohane a naughty baby?” A hand slid delicately along her side, just barely ghosting her crotch. Bitten-back whimpers and moans escaping past Yoshiko’s pacifier served as confirmation, earning a giggle from Mari.</p><p>“Does baby wanna make cummies?” she whispered delicately into Yoshiko’s ear, at the same time taking hold of Yoshiko’s erection to slowly pump it up and down. Her hand was soft and gentle to the touch, just barely caressing Yoshiko’s length. All the while Mari whispered sweet nothings into Yoshiko’s ear, little morsels of praise that left her on cloud nine.</p><p>Still, even Mari’s gentle touch was enough to coalesce into an avalanche of sensation. Yoshiko whimpered and squirmed in Mari’s grasp, in such a heavy little space that even a small amount of attention paid was overwhelming. Mari seemingly took notice and slowed down, drawing her hand away and kissing Yoshiko on the forehead.</p><p>“Is that too much, <em>mia piccola?</em>” Yoshiko nodded slowly, and Mari hummed. “Do you still wanna make cummies? I have something else in mind, if you’d like,” she cooed softly. Yoshiko thought for a moment, then nodded once again. “Alright, let’s get little Yohane changed.”</p><p>Mari glided over to the closet, procuring a clean diaper and a bottle of diaper powder from the closet and returning to Yoshiko’s side. She dusted some of the powder onto Yoshiko’s bare skin and massaged it around gently, focusing on the sensitive parts of Yoshiko’s body around her crotch. Yoshiko found herself giggling into her pacifier at the attention, but those laughs quickly melted into moans as the attention continued, this time a bit more manageable. After Mari was satisfied with her work she slid the new diaper underneath Yoshiko’s waist and secured the tapes around her hips, completing the outfit by re-buttoning Yoshiko’s onesie around her diaper.</p><p>“Alright dear,” Mari spoke gently, “it’s time for baby to take a nap, but before that we’re going to have a bit of playtime. Do you want to pick out a stuffie?”</p><p>Yoshiko was confused by the sudden shift in tone from before, but nonetheless excited at the prospect of what Mari was suggesting. She nodded enthusiastically and allowed Mari to lift her down onto the floor so that she could crawl to the pile of plushies on the floor of the closet. It was full of all kinds of animals and objects, but she already knew what she was looking for before she’d even begun digging through the pile. After a few minutes she was neck deep in stuffed animals, but smiled wide when she found the perfect plushie - a giant stuffed shark, with a smile full of sharp teeth. As soon as she could maneuver her way out of the pile she excitedly tugged on Mari’s pant leg to proudly display her find.</p><p>“Aww, did you find a friend, dear? She’s so cute! I have to go get some toys for playtime, can Yohane be a big girl and crawl up onto the bed for me with her stuffy?”</p><p>As soon as Mari left the room Yoshiko did as she was told, making her way up onto the bed and rolling around with her new stuffed animal. She’d always loved stuffed animals when she was younger, clinging to a similar stuffed shark all throughout high school until she left it behind for college. Her mom had undoubtedly gotten rid of it by now, but holding this new friend in her arms felt like a reminder of those halcyon days when she’d been able to indulge her taste for stuffed animals without any kind of worry about how <em>adult </em>it was.</p><p>When Mari finally returned, she bore two different objects in her hands. One was a mobile, which was swiftly hung from a hook on the ceiling and allowed to spin freely. The other object was less obvious - it was a white rod of some sort, its function far beyond the understanding of Yoshiko’s innocence-addled mind.</p><p>“Alright my dear, hug your stuffy and look up at the spinnies for me. I’m gonna make you feel nice and tingly, alright?”</p><p>Yoshiko nodded hesitantly and looked up at the mobile, which was decorated with bats and tiny little demons, yet another touch that sent her heart fluttering at her mommy’s consideration. She hugged her shark tight, unsure of what would come next until a sound came from Mari’s direction and she realized exactly what the rod had been - a vibrator, and a powerful one at that.</p><p>After turning its intensity down, Mari pressed its head to Yoshiko’s onesie right above her crotch. Yoshiko flinched at the touch, still easily overwhelmed in the midst of her little space, but this time it felt much different - the vibrations were refracted by the diaper and the fabric of the onesie, enveloping her lower half in a gentle buzz that coaxed her back into an erection and brought about a melody of quiet whimpers muffled by her pacifier. Unlike before, when Mari’s affections had threatened her state of mind, this only enhanced it.</p><p>Yoshiko relaxed into the bed and snuggled with her shark as Mari moved about the vibrator, creating small changes in intensity that kept Yoshiko dangling on the edge of even more pleasure and warmth. A tightening sensation in her core began to coil as time went on, beckoned forth by Mari’s affections. Yoshiko whimpered and mewled, so lost in her little space that the act barely even registered as sexual - it was just her mommy making her feel warm and tingly in her special place. As she began to crest the peak of her orgasm and shot thin, clear strands of seed into her diaper, it felt less like a surge of lightning and more like the warm rush of relief that had come with wetting her diaper moments before. She mewled and suckled on her pacifier contentedly as the orgasm washed over her, luring her deeper into a state of drowsy bliss as Mari crawled onto the bed and laid down beside her.</p><p>“You did such a good job, my dear. You’re such a good little girl,” she cooed softly. Yoshiko hummed as she nuzzled herself into Mari’s bosom, and Mari let loose a quiet giggle at the act. “Does baby wanna suck on Mommy’s breasts?”</p><p>Yoshiko nodded eagerly, prompting Mari to slip down her blouse and bra so that one breast was exposed, looking almost angelic in its perfect form to Yoshiko’s sleepy eyes. Mari pulled Yoshiko’s pacifier out of her mouth with a satisfying <em>pop, </em>allowing her leverage with which to wrap her lips around Mari’s nipple. She began suckling, at first hesitantly, then with more enthusiasm as Mari’s arms wrapped around her and cradled her gently. A million miles away from the stresses of adulthood and academics and protected from the bustling Tokyo streets just outside, Yoshiko felt at peace for the first time in years. She wasn’t Yoshiko Tsushima, a scared little girl putting on her best brave face and hiding everything that had once made her unique; she was <em>Yohane</em>, Mari’s precious fallen angel. Leather jackets and mature-looking blouses had given way to onesies and diapers and pacis, painted with cute little demons.</p><p>Mari continued to cradle Yoshiko in her arms, letting her suck away as she drifted off into a peaceful nap, ready to recoup all her energy so that she could stay as Mari’s fallen angel for all the longer.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>